


An Hour To Your Company

by sheru3



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gay Keith (Voltron), Hurt Keith (Voltron), I'm Sorry, Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Lance (Voltron) is a Mess, M/M, Mild Smut, because i seem to like writing characters in some form of emotional hurt for some reason, lance wont stop calling keith 'mullet', or thats just me, yeah this has been in my drafts for 4890589485904 years
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-01-13 04:17:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21238034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sheru3/pseuds/sheru3
Summary: "There's people staying over at mine." The man prompts a few seconds later, probably taking Lance's brief silence as hesitation. His brain blanks out for a brief moment until he realises he's been asked a question. Lance blinks."Uhh, sure." He finally says against better judgement. Firstly stating the obvious, he’s not sure how he’s going to will down the very prominent arousal in his pants, it'll definitely be the same for the poor guy who probably thinks he conveniently lives just a couple minutes away, because he doesn't actually. In fact he lives more than anhouraway- and he’s not sure how he’s going to break it to him.-In which, out of loneliness, Lance unknowingly seeks company in questionable ways.





	An Hour To Your Company

Lance isn't sure how he managed to get into this situation, if he could be honest. It started with what he _tried_ to convince himself to be just a little fun night out by himself where he'd travel to the furthest end of the city he could, find the closest club, get a couple of drinks, dance a little, possibly chat to some people and then go all the way back to his apartment where he would probably sleep for the next hundred years or so if he was lucky. That was all he was expecting, honestly.

So to suddenly find himself being shoved harshly against a wall as a cold pair of lips hungrily moved against his in a desolate alleyway has, if he'd to be honest, completely thrown him for a loop. He really shouldn’t be surprised though. It's not like he minds the fact that his supposed 'night out' is going to turn out like this, so he may as well just go along with it anyway.

He pushes any other thoughts to the back of his mind as he lets out a pleased sound in his throat, threading his fingers through the other person's soft hair, it's clear to Lance that he's with another man this time. His hair surprisingly feels quite long at the back though, suspiciously feeling a lot like a mullet but he honestly couldn't care enough to be picky right now. Definitely not, not when he trails his hand down from the mysterious man's covered nape to his shoulders, the small of his back to the curve of his ass where he squeezes tightly, eliciting a heated gasp that makes the already stirring heat in Lance's gut grow more apparent by the second. That’s when he knows that this wouldn’t be so bad, or so he thought at first

Because of the dim lighting of the alleyway, Lance has difficulty making out the other man's face, so he instead tries to shift his focus ontothe warm body in front of him. He could feel the tell-tale firmness beneath the layers of clothing as he runs his hand down his torso, the waist feeling almost narrow beneath his wandering hands. He breathes in deeply, an almost barely discernible mix of leather with something almost fragrant filling his senses. It makes Lance want to get even closer to take it in more until it makes him dizzy, it'd be impossible though, with there barely being any space between them and all.

It feels so warm being this physically close to someone, and Lance realises, with a brief yet strong pang of sadness at the realisation, how much he really misses the feeling.

The other man let out a breahtless sound in as Lance immediately switches their positions, successfully pushing the man up against the wall and wasting no time in grinding his hips against him slow and hard. Lance smiles to himself, it's the first time in a while since he's done this and it feels good to know he still has it in him to do this. He's almost forgotten how good it feels.

After a brief pause filled with heavy breathing, the man unexpectedly speaks up. "Hey." He whispers, slightly panting and flushed from their little exertion. Lance replies in faint acknowledgement with another grind of his hips, albeit purposefully slower. The other man's eyes flutter shut at the contact. "Oh _fuck,"_ he breathes in sharply as Lance grins a little in satisfaction into the man's neck. "_Aah-_ are you even listening?" He asks breathlessly, sounding a bit frustrated, _how cute._ Lance hums as he proceeds to kiss and suck on the man's bared neck.

"I'm listening." He assures, breathing in more of that scent. This is the first time they’re actually talking since they bumped into each other in the nearby club. Lance figured before that there probably wouldn't he no communication gong on between them, he guesses now that he was wrong.

The unnamed man makes a sudden grab at Lance's shoulders and before he could push him back, Lance scrapes his teeth lightly down the pale skin and sucks for few seconds and then pulls away. He examines the steadily forming bruise on his neck and looks up at the man's face as he shudders in front of him.

"Do you-" the man begins, Lance watches intensively as his adam's apple bobs noticeably as he swallows, "can we do this at your place?" He proposes, his grip on Lance's shoulders tight. Lance stares back into the other's eyes, beneath the shitty lighting of a lamp on the wall above them he could faintly make out a deep purple hue within them, it’s hard to make out with his pupil's blown wide with unmistakable lust, but Lance could still sort of see it- to Lance it looks pretty, but he’s not going to say that our loud.

"There's people staying over at mine." The man prompts a few seconds later, probably taking Lance's brief silence as hesitation. His brain blanks out for a brief moment until he realises he's been asked a question. Lance blinks.

"Uhh, sure." He finally says against better judgement. Firstly stating the obvious, he’s not sure how he’s going to will down the very prominent arousal in his pants, it'll definitely be the same for the poor guy who probably thinks he conveniently lives just a couple minutes away, because he doesn't actually. In fact he lives more than an _hour_ away- and he’s not sure how he’s going to break it to him.

Besides, Lance would rather not end whatever this is so soon. Who's to say he will even get the chance again?

He feels the grip at his shoulders weaken slightly as a soft sigh left the other man’s lips. “Good.” He says simply, his arms moving to wrap around Lance’s neck as he pulls him into another deep kiss. Lance can hear the very close sound of a car driving right by but he doesn’t care, the other man doesn’t seem to care either. To Lancd , it’s amazing how almost distant the world can become when he’s this engrossed in another one’s presence. It makes him feel so much better for the first time in a while since he’d left home.

Suddenly, the sound of a phone ringing interrupts them. Lance pulls away again, still in a daze as the other man lets out a long sigh and pulls out his phone with eligible annoyance. After tapping at his phone, he shoves it hasitly back into his pocket. Lance does a double-take, only now realising the finger-less gloves the other is wearing. After a brief moment of consideration, he decides they don't even look that bad at all.

His attention snaps back to the situation. He wants to question what that was about, but he quickly decides against it, seeing as any hint of previous irritation on the man’s face has vanished as he looks back at him intently with expectant eyes. Lance already knows what's going to happen next. 

“Should we get going then?” The man says, acting as if nothing just happened.

A surge of excitement rushes through Lance as he lets go of his short-lived confusiin. He pulls away from the other man’s grip, grinning widely. “We should run for it though.” He says and promptly grabs the other’s arm and begins to sprint. The guy almost yelps in protest as they make it back onto the main street.

“What the hell?” The man yells after him as Lance laughs loudly, he looks back as the guy steadies himself and starts to run alongside him, despite this, Lance doesn’t let go. 

”The train comes every ten or so minutes so we need to be quick to catch the next one!” He yells back to him, it’s slightly uncomfortable running in this state, he can even see it in the other guy’s face that he feels the same way and yet, they still mamage to run down the almost empty street until they reach around the corner to the station that Lance had come from earlier that night.

It's a weird thought, but Lance can't recall an incident where he had ever ran with a boner as fast as he ever did in his life. In fact, he never did. But at this very moment he has a cute finger-less glove-wearing guy with what he can finally confirm to really have an actual fucking _mullet_ running with him. A _definitely_ cute guy who looks about to be the same age as him who also happens to have an equally hard boner at that, and somehow, that makes the discomfort a little bit more bearable.

—————————-

The train carriage they’re in is empty, save for only Lance and the man he’s with who’s busy kissing and biting on his neck. Lance is really trying his utmost best to not make much noise or do something he knows he shouldn’t, especially in such a public area despite there not being anyone around. Perhaps it’s the alcohol that’s attempting to cloud any rational thought trying to conjure itself up in his mind because it’s become a lot more harder than usual to resist.

He suddenly shivers slightly, partly from the intense feeling of a hot mouth on his neck and partly from the cold air prickling his skin. The feelings contrasting one another., causing his senses to go all over the place. Lance’s eyes strain to stare up ahead at the dingy old lights as the train came to a stop at a station he’s is too out of it to properly hear the announcement of, everything feels fuzzy to him, but he feels almost at comfort.

He sighs lightly and closes his eyes, shutting away the scene of movement as he distractedly runs his hands over the man’s surprisingly soft hair until he trails it down slowly to that _dumb_ mullet. Lance fiddles around with the hair for a moment, tangling them in his fingers before gently pulling them free and brushing up the locks with a sweep of his palm, baring his nape. At that simple action, the man instantly flinches, seemingly from the sudden cold that attacks his skin. Lance feels the corners of his lips tug up in amusement. 

”What’s up with the mullet?” He teases. He tugs lightly at the hair in question which the man in response only let out a faint sound similar to a scoff. Instead of answering, he lightly scrapes his teeth down Lance’s throat. Lance gasps at the slight sting of pain, however the feeling mixed in with it isn’t close to unpleasant. He tugs at the man’s hair again, the constant presence of heat felt in his gut spreading across his entire body.

The guy’s practically sitting on Lance's lap at this point, his legs draping over his as he leans forward into his side. Lance likes it, he lets out a little sigh in content as he slowly brings his other hand up to rest on the man’s hip, the skin underneath his shirt radiating heat into his fingertips.

Lance doesn’t feel as cold anymore.

—————————

”How fucking far do you even live?

It’s been twenty minutes until they make it to Lance’s stop. They’ve been so 'preoccupied' that they didn’t seem to notice how much time had went by. Lance is already walking to get another train, which will take, if he recalls correctly, about fifteen or so minutes? He turns to the man, who trails behind him. He looks understandably vexed, which causes Lance to grin sheepishly.

”Sorry man, it's only an hour away.”

Lance swears he could nearly see the other guy pout,_(cute.)_ He’s suddenly hit with the urge to pull the other guy close by his side. His arm twitches to wrap around that slim waist, but resists. It’s very hard to though, when they wait for the next train to come, Lance steals a glance at the other man again. He doesn't know why he's a little surprised at the sight of him shivering. Lance takes a moment to properly take in the guy's appearance properly for the first time.

Lance immediately makes a face,_honestly,_ how can that cropped jacket be worn by anybody at all if it lacks practicality? Like, the guy looks _good_ in it, sure. But Lance still couldn’t understand the point of it. Fuck it, mullet? Cropped jacket? Finger-less gloves? Yet the guy still manages to look great? Lance knows that a lot of people can in no way be able to pull something like that off, let alone himself. But somehow this guy could. It’s both ways attractive and irritating.

The train came and they step in, this time there’s a few people scattered around in the carriage. An elderly couple huddling together in the corner seeking warmth while in hushed conversation. A middle-aged woman who’s still clad in work attire, engrossed in reading her book and a dishevelled looking man passed out with his body laying over nearly a whole row of seats. Even though none of them clearly seem to notice their presence, both Lance and the man make an attempt to be discreet in re-arranging their slightly messy appearance and sit down without saying a word.

Lance sits silently, fiddling with the strings of his hoodie to occupy himself. He steals a glimpse beside him to see the man looking down at his hands, he looks like he’s got something on his mind. Lance looks away quickly before he gets caught, though he doubts he would be anyway. The guy looks so...troubled. Definitely different to how he was just mere minutes before. Lance couldn’t help but wonder what seems to be on his mind.

It isn’t like it’s even his business. But Lance considers himself to be a nice guy. Sure all of this is suppoed to be a casual fling, but how can he just resist acting on his naturally caring instincts? He has the urge to break the silence, but surprisingly, he isn’t sure how.

Seeing as everyone else on the train keep their attention elsewhere, Lance slowly moves his arm to drape it over the other man’s shoulders. This brings the man out of his reverie and he looks up at him, his wide eyes looking ag him in confusion. Damn it, why is this guy so _cute?_

”Shouldn’t we use this time to get to know one another?” He leans in close and whispers. The man’s puzzled look immediately morphs into something unreadable.

”No.” He replies blankly. _Figures._

Now normally, anyone would back off at that. But Lance, being the social butterfly he is, is bored- and seeing as it’s not too appropriate at the moment to practically eat each other’s faces off right then and there _including_ the fact that this ride is going to be about fifteen minutes, Lance simply thinks it’d make sense to at least talk. What harm is there in that?

Lance pulls the guy closer gently despite his silent glare of protest. “C’mon, at least tell me your name?” He prompts, pouting like a kid. The man rolls his eyes and shrugs his arm off.

”Don’t push it.” He snaps. Lance raises a brow _Ouch._ The guy’s doesn’f seem to be the conversational tyoe, or maybe this is just how he is to anyone, who knows. Lance leans away nonchalantly, wondering why he couldn't at least be given a name, because honestly. Lance is tired of just addressing him as “the man.” It was getting boring and too damn repetitive.

Lance looks to his side again, his eyes catching on the mullet. To think his hands were running through it just earlier. The way the strands curl up slightly at the ends to rest comfortably at his nape. The sudden urge to sweep all those hairs back up again resurfaced within Lance but he resists. Now doesn’t seem to be the time. But he’s looking forward to when it will be.

He ultimately decides to call the guy ‘Mullet’ for the time being.

————————

They’re off the train and walking up the steps to leave the station. At this point, their hard-ons have gone away for the time being. They don’t talk still and Lance still isn’t sure what to make of the silence. He can’t tell if there’s some sort of tension or whatnot because of their little interaction earlier. Although Mullet’s (somehow that sounds better) face doesn’t appear to be as stony as before. He still has this closed-off air to him, it doesn't do much of anything to waver Lance's growing curiosity and, dare he say it, concern. He really wants to say something, he really does, but the ringing phone from earlier beats him to it on catching Mullet's attention.

A cross of something passes Mullet's face that's too quick for Lance to make out before he pulls out the pretty much offending object out of his pocket again. As Lance expects, he doesn't answer the call. Lance looks off to the side and doesn't say a word. Silently leading the way to a bus stop, despite feigning an oblivious manner, Lance wonders who could be calling him.

Lance would hate to have a debate about it, but he honestly needs something to keep himself from, he honestly doesn't know _cradling_ mullet dude in his arms because of how much more upset the poor guy appears to look. The person who's calling him is someone he clearly doesn't want to talk to _obviously._ That's about as much as he can gather.

Maybe it's someone worrying about his whereabouts? Could be a family member, most likely parents? Though Mullet looks just about the same age as Lance, though that doesn't mean parents still can't worry. His parents always check on him-

Lance sighs to himself, rolling his eyes. He doesn't know where he's even going with this. He frowns and pulls his jacket tighter around his body. They're at his stop now and Mullet still hasn't said a word. Lance, desperately wanting to fill the silence in any way he can, tries to think of something to say- anything really and then stops as he looks over at Mullet again. He's shaking, except a lot harder than last time.

Lance immediately feels bad as he realises, even though he noticed, he hasn’t done anything about it before. It's definitely around midnight at this point and it's _freezing._ Instead of inwardly criticising the other man for his impractical fashion choices, he proceeds to shrug off his jacket and walks over to Mullet, who has his arms crossed tightly over the area that his jacket couldn't cover.

Removing any hint of concern on his face, he replaces it with an easy-going grin as Lance inwardly berates himself for not doing anything earlier. "Feeling cold, Mullet?" He teases and drapes his jacket over the man's slightly broader frame. Mullet shoots Lance a incredulous look at the nickname. "What?" Lance questions with a smirk, "you won't tell me your name." He continues, supplying the other man with the hint that he may as well change his mind.

To Lance's disappointment, Mullet doesn’t reply and simply rolls his eyes as he adjusts the jacket so that it's resting comfortably on his shoulders. Lance turns away quickly to hide his expression. _God damn it why is he so fucking cute._ He screams internally in his head. He then promptly turns around to face the other who's looking right back at him quizzically.

"You didn't have to...you know." Mullet speaks up, shrugging his shoulders as a way of gesture towards the jacket (that despite him being quite broad and lean, still managed to look bigger on him, to Lance's delight). "Thanks though." He says, looking off to the side and letting out a visible, misty breath. It really is cold tonight, Lance rubs his arms and smiles at Mullet.

"No problem man." He notices straight away how the other eyes the way he's trying to keep warm himself. Lance could sense his hesitation before Mullet could speak up again. "Don't worry about me, I'm good." He reassures. Mullet's eyes flicker up from Lance's slightly shivering form to his face briefly before he quickly looks away again, lips pursed.

"How much longer?" He asks, his voice sounding strangely close to Lance's ears. Lance checks the time on his phone for pretty much the first time he left his home. His eyes widen comically as his screen lights up to show the numbers, 1:56 a.m. Has he really been out for nearly six whole hours? Sure his spontaneous journey an hour away from home took some time but _really?_ He had stayed in the club for that long? He didn’t even realise. Lance clears his throat to compose himself after his brief moment of shock and answers Mullet's question.

"Uh, roughly seventeen more minutes?" He says, Mullet spins around to regard him tiredly. Lance smiles weakly in understanding.

"So you're telling me that you were at home and then all of a sudden impulsively decided it'd make total sense to just up and leave to venture to a club that's a whole hour away?” He asks with blunt bemusement, gazing at Lance with disbelief..

Lance opens his mouth to quickly retaliate but closes his mouth quickly. That is basically what went down, so Mullet isn't even wrong. It sounds ridiculous really, but it's not like Lance had anything better to do. Seriously, he didn't. Honest.

Come to think of it, this is the first time Mullet actually says something more that a few short phrases. It takes Lance by surprise for a minute as it appears to be that the usually stony-faced-looking dude is practically poking fun at him in his expense (out of all other reasons he could've talked by the way). Lance doesn't completely mind though, he likes Mullet’s voice a lot already, he just wishes that he could speak more though.

"Listen man." The taller man begins, trying to push away whatever he was starting to think into the back of his head." “I just had a shitty stressed-induced week of finals and my roommate went away to go visit his girlfriend for the weekend. So it's either I sit on the couch in my apartment alone watching 'Finding Nemo' or something while crying over a bowl of cereal with no milk in it because I'm too lazy to buy any, or I can leave and venture to the outdoors and attempt to re-establish myself in this society by actually interacting with people. Which sounds more ideal do you think? Exactly."

Mullet stares at Lance incredulously for a moment, Lance instantly bites down on his lip as he realises how he just spouted out a sudden passionate, quite embarrassingly personal outburst. Surely if this guy refuses to tell him something as simple and basic as his name then how could that possibly indicate any welcome for Lance to practically ramble about his potential choices for coping with his crippling loneliness? Before Lance could consider dying a little more inside, Mullet looks away again with a small smirk.

"Honestly, the former sounds more appealing if you ask me." He lets out a little huff of breath that sounds vaguely like a laugh. Lance gapes, close enough he supposes- wait did he just make another joke?

”Dude,” Lance suddenly laughs and lightly slaps Mullet on the shoulder, “you and I both, and yet, here we are. Right?” Mullet lets out a barely audible cough at the touch. Lance pauses, then steps forward to peer at the other man's face.

“You OK?” He asks, Mullet meets Lance’s eyes for a brief second, his eyes looking glassy before he blinks and turns away.

”I’m fine.” He says tersely. He lets in an audibly sharp breath and not-so-subtly increases the distance between him and Lance. His face screws up, as if struggling to get the rest of his words out. “Just...leave me alone for now, OK? I don’t wanna talk anymore.” He says faintly.

Lance instantly feels a slight pang of hurt and shoves his hands into his jean pockets, brows furrowing. And just when Lance was beginning to think Mullet is finally getting comfortable with him, he reverts back to this again He gets it, they’re hooking up, but Lance, being the genuine nice guy he is, is already having second thoughts. Clearly this guy has something in his mind that _evidently_ is not a good something. He probably even forced himself to go out and do all of this as well to begin with.

Suddenly Lance is not so sure about this anymore.

The taller man breathes in and out slowly, hands still buried in his pockets. He steels a glance at Mullet again. His hunched up shoulders wrapped around tight by his jacket. Lance really wants to find a way to make things feel less awkward than they unexpectedly got. The conversation they had earlier on was nice, but it barely lasted.

Lance ponders, wondering if there is any way to get Mullet to open up without seeming to be too intrusive. But then again, he takes in another deep breath, albeit shakily, _what if I'm just a distraction to him?_ He realises. _What if he feels this is his only way to cope with whatever problem he's having?_

The whirring sound of a distant bus engine begins to sound out in the empty street, snapping Lance out of his thoughts. Mullet doesn't move, nor does he look back at Lance to check if he is still there. They get on the empty bus in silence, Mullet doesn't look back at him.

It's like Lance isn't even there anymore, or perhaps it's only Keith that doesn't seem to be present in the moment.

\---------------------

Nobody else is on the bus with them, it makes sense, seeing as it's so late. When they entered, the driver smiles at them tiredly and apologises in advance for the lack of heating. "Guess it brings you out of the warm buzz that comes with a night out, eh?" He chuckles, his voice loud enough to startle Keith out of his stupor. Lance shakes his head and laughs politely.

"Yeah, the cold pretty much made me sober already." He says, digging into his pockets to pay the fare for himself and Mullet. Before Lance could hand over the money, the driver waves it away.

"Don't worry about that, make sure you spend that on water instead. Your friend doesn't look so well." He says, peering at Mullet. Mullet looks away, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"I'm fine." He says faintly, after a brief pause he opens his mouth again. "Thanks though." He says even more quietly and then promptly moves further into the bus. Lance sighs, staring after the other man’s retreating figure. There’s an odd feeling still gnawing at his chest. 

"Yeah, I’m worried about him too." He turns to the driver again after a brief pause. "But I’ll be sure to take care of him."

\-------------------------------

Lance thanks the driver before getting off. Thankfully, the ride is quicker than he expects, which again, makes sense since there's less traffic. Mullet turns to Lance silently, but Lance already knows what he's about to say. He holds his hands up.

"I know, I know. Eight more minutes, that OK?"

Mullet sighs, running a gloved hand through his hair, Lance tries to not react. "Yeah, fine. So what, another bus?"

Lance starts to walk. "Nah." he says, looking beside him to check if Mullet is catching up. "But we can get there faster if we-" He turns the street corner to a bike parking rack. "-take my roommates bike." He unchains the bike while staring unexpectedly at Mullet, who freezes, darting his eyes from the bike to Lance.

"Soooo," Mullet begins, eyeing Lance suspiciously. "is this like a common thing for you to do?"

Lance blinks. "What?"

Mullet lets go of Lance's jacket sleeve to gesture at the bike. "This, like do you often leave your area and voyage with your hook-ups all the way back?"

Lance removes the bike from its rack, shaking his head., feeling a little embarrassed. "No, actually I don't. This is actually a first for me." Mullet continues to look at him.

"Uhuh." He replies, sounding and looking unconvinced. The taller man huffs and points at the the extra seat that's raised higher than the one on the front.

"On you get." He orders jokingly, swinging his leg over to sit on the front. Mullet shakes his head, hastily tying Lance's sleeves around his shoulders as he approaches the bike.

"This is ridiculous." Mullet huffs as he moves to sit at the back seat. He pouts again. This time, Lance doesn't let the chance slide. He turns his torso a bit more and quickly catches Mullet's lips in his own. It's a chaste kiss, but it still feels good to Lance. Mullet flinches and leans back, glaring.

"Wh-"

"Hush, before I kiss those pouty lips of yours again, Mullet." Lance quickly turns back around and begins to pedal the bike onto the empty road. He yelps when he feels a light slap on the back of his head.

"You know what, I was wrong." Mullet says, Lance could practically head the scowl in his voice. "This isn't ridiculous, _you_ are ridiculous." He concludes harshly. Lance instantly throws his head back and laughs.

"If you say so." He yells simply in reply, his voice being carried by the wind as they move faster through the streets. "You want that water by the way? Or better yet, we can stop by a store and just get some more drinks."

_"Hell_ yes." Mullet immediately answers, the sudden change in his mood making Lance laugh again. He feels relieved too now, glad that Mullet seems to be OK again. But his short-lived relief wavers as he realises in the back of his mind that probably, this could just be another fleeting good moment.

He honestly didn't know he would actually be right.

\---------------------

"Is this it?" Mullet's muffled voice asks once they slow down n front of an apartment building. Lance turns around to see Mullet's face covered by the sleeves of his own jacket. He turns back around quickly to clench his eyes shut. _So fucking cute._ He pedals the bike over to a lamp post. 

"Yep, third floor." He replies. "Sorry about all of this, you probably thought I lived close by or something." He gets of the bike and Mullet follows soon after.

"It's...it's actually OK, honestly." Mullet says, not really showing any distinct indication that he either does or does not mean what he said. He looks like he wants to add something else, but he keeps his mouth shut. It spirals Lance's mind into uncertainty again. He sighs and shakes it off, quite literally. When he glimpses at the other man, he catches him looking at him oddly.

"You're cold right?” Lance asks. “We should head inside quickly."

Mullet exhales softly, his arms tight across his chest again. A puff of mist leaves his lips. "Yeah."

Suddenly Lance feels something drop onto his head, he looks up, not realising that the sky got cloudier in the span of just a minute. He curses, reaching forward to hold onto Mullet's arm, who is looking up as well.

"Looks like we’re running again." Lance grins.

Mullet groans. "You and your running.” He points accusingly at Lance’s lower half. “You have long ass legs, you know how unfair that is for me?"

Lance begins to pull Mullet along. "Hey, I ran track. You can't blame me."

Mullet scoffs, but doesn't pull away from Lance’s hold, so the other man tugs him along and as they run into the building, the plastic bag of newly bought alcohol clinking loudly as it dangles from Lance's wrist. They're soon safely sheltered away from what seems to be turning into a heavy rainstorm. Lance watches as the raindrops begin to wet the ground af an alarmingly fast pace.

"t's pretty convenient that the rain didn't start until after we got here, don't you think?" Lance comments, running his hand through his slightly damp hair. He looks over at Mullet, who shakes his head. The droplets from the rain dripping from his overgrown bangs. Lance bites the inside of his cheek, quickly tearing his eyes away from him.

"Hardly." Mullet huffs, he shrugs off Lance's jacket and hands it to him. "Anyway, thanks for this. You didn't have to though."

"Pfft, don't mention it honestly."

Lance slings his jacket over his shoulder, the familiar fragrant scent of Mullet wafting into his face as he did so. It then hits Lance all too suddenly, it's like he had almost forgotten the real reason they came all the way here. He bites at his lips, the scent still hitting him strong, it nearly empowers Lance's own, but it is distinct, his and Mullet's scent mixed together. It smells nice, almost weirdly comforting. It evokes a feeling within Lance that is indescribable, he doesn't even want to try and decipher what the feeling is and why it's there.

As they walk up the stairs, Lance hums a little tune to himself that's been in his head the whole day. Mullet's footsteps echoes slightly behind him. Not too long after, they make it to Lance's door after walking down a little hallway. Lance turns to Mullet, who is looking at him heavily.

It’s like that one look alone caused the previous air of causality they held this whole time to completely dissipate. Lance swallows, feeling a flare of something mixed with want but also a surprising sense of uncertainty deep in his gut. He still wonders if this will still be OK. Usually, Lance doesn't usually back down on things, but this is different. The whole time Lance took Mullet to his home, he could almost feel Mullet's sadness. It’s putting him at an unease. 

Did they both really want this?

Lance's thought process is cut off when Mullet approaches him, clutching him by the shirt and pulling his lips onto his. Lance lets out a little gasp, his lips gaping open slightly. Mullet took this as a chance to slide his tongue into Lance's mouth, causing him to practically melt under his grasp, the building tension in his shoulders leaving. Mullet pulls away, his slightly heavy breath warm against Lance's lips. Lance feels the corner of his lips twitch upwards, he couldn't help it.

"Desperate, are we?"

Keith scoffs. "No shit, I had to wait over a whole stupid hour for this." He pushes his body flush against Lance's making their breaths stutter slightly. He leans in, whispering hotly into Lance's ear. "I'm not gonna waste anymore time."

Lance exhales slowly, putting a hand on Mullet's shoulders and gently puts some distance between them. "Alright, alright, jeez dude. Let me get us through the front door first." He says breathlessly and turns around, cheeks flushed. He rummages in his pocket for his keys and takes it out. Once Lance pushes open the door and sets the drinks on a nearby table, Mullet is already on him again, pushing Lance against the wall of the hallway just like before and mouthing at the tan skin of his neck. Lance instantly lets out a sigh, knocking his head back against the wall and closing his eyes, the familiar buzzing in his veins returning. They’re back where they started.

It's strange though, usually he wouldn't thing much about anything at this point, but Lance could still feel this weird feeling eating away at him, wondering if the man in front of him is really in the moment. It doesn't matter that he is a total stranger, in the past hour they've been together, Lance could tell there is something on Mullet's mind and it's evident that _he_ is Mullet's way of trying to forget about it. But it doesn't seem to work well for him. It's not hard to tell.

Lance bites his lip, now isn't the time to really address it and it's obvious that Mullet would not be willing to talk, most especially now of all times, let alone at any other time at all. Hell, he wouldn't even tell him his name, then again, Lance never told him his own either.

"Something on your mind?" Mullet's voice murmurs into Lance's ear. Lance's breath hitches at the ticklish sensation. He opens his eyes, his vision hardly making out much of anything in front of him. Mullet had pulled away, staring into Lance's face expectantly. Just when Lance assumed they wouldn't talk any further, Mullet, out of them both, is the one to ask that question. It almost makes Lance want to laugh.

"Shouldn't I be the one to ask you that?" Lance says, looking right back into Mullet's face, who raises a brow, the corner of his lips pulling down slightly.

"No," he says, observing Lance closely, "you shouldn't"

Lance isn't sure what to say to that, so he continues to chew at his bottom lip. Mullet seems to sense exactly what Lance is feeling, or thinking at that moment, because he simply scoffs and leans away from him slightly, opening his mouth to say something.

A loud ringing interrupts him and Mullet's shoulders tense abruptly.

At that moment, Lance could feel the grip on his shoulders weaken. He watches the other man as that air of confidence seems to leave him as quickly as it had appeared. He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and then breathes out, it's not as close to Lance's face than before, but he could still feel that slight tickle. They both stay still for a moment, as the seconds pass, the longer the phone continues to rings and as that happens, the more Mullet's face becomes more visibly strained. Finally, the painfully intrusive ringing comes to a stop, the silence following soon after seems almost deafening.

Mullet's eyes stay shut and Lance continues to stupidly say nothing. He wishes he could read Mullet's mind at that very moment. Lance is trying so hard to be considerate, but it's hard to not address the obvious issue here when the man in front of him looks like he's in actual _pain._

"Hey," Lance decides to speak up, his voice sounding annoyingly raspy. He clears his throat quickly, _way to go Lance to make this more awkward,_ "whatever's troubling you, you can talk to me. It's totally OK." He says quietly. Mullet's expression softens a little bit and he finally opens his eyes. He doesn't look at Lance straight away at first. He just looks down, not saying anything. After a beat of silence, Lance can hear Keith swallow thickly.

"I just-" Mullet starts, his voice sounding just as raspy. He doesn't bother clearing his throat, "'-it's just stupid." He inhales sharply and backs away, pressing his back against the opposite wall, still avoiding eye-contact with Lance. "I thought that this-" he gestures between himself and the taller man, "-this would help, but it's not _working._" The frustration in his voice is suddenly so clear and so raw, Lance nearly linches at the intensity of it.

"Help with what?' Lance asks, eyes glued to a strand of hair that's stuck to Mullet's forehead, his hand twitches by his side.

Mullet (at this point, it's awkward to call him that in this situation, but what can Lance do?) looks at Lance for just a split moment, something in his eyes that's observing, calculating, as if he's trying to make out any hidden feeling or meaning behind Lance's concern. He quickly looks away opening his mouth to speak slowly. "There was this guy I was with. He...I caught him- he was-" he screws up his face, a flash of what can be made our to be anger and pain on his face. Lance stays silent, frowning. He doesn't need to hear the rest of the other man's sentence to get the idea. Mullet shuts his eyes, head leaning against the wall.

”I called it off two days ago. I didn't confront him about what I saw, I just didn't want to make myself go through all of that. He kept calling me and messaging me asking _'what's up with you? What's wrong? What did I do?'_ as if he doesn't know _exactly_ what he fucking did." The shorter male's voice raises slightly near the end. Lance grimaces at the thought of how shitty that must've been. He glances down at Mullet's pocket where the earlier ringing originated.

"So the one who keeps on calling you is...?"

Mullet sighs, running a hand through his messy hair. "Yes."

A sudden mix of confusion and anger swirls within Lance. "Couldn't you just block him?"

Mullet spares another glimpse at Lance, still regarding him closely, tiredly. "I wish it were that easy. Even if I don't reply to his messages, he'll know I've at least seen them. If he knows I blocked him, who knows what he would do." Lance's raises his brows at this. Mullet sighs and continues.

"Look, I don't think this is gonna work, so I'll just-" he gestures towards the door, eyes still down. Lance reaches out and takes hold of Mullet's wrist before he could turn to leave.

"Hey, wait." Mullet turns his head slowly, eyes on Lance's hand. He doesn't shake him off surprisingly. He looks up and they meet eyes. Lance, feeling awkward once again, drops Mullet's hand, feeling hot and sheepish. "You don't have to leave, you can stay for a while- I mean, if you want." Mullet blinks at him and there's a beat of silence. Lance hurries to continue. "We don't have to do anything, we can just...be each other's company, you know?" Mullet stares at Lance, in clear confusion. Lance swallows nervously, worrying that he may be pushing it and is going a little too far.

"I..I don't know." Mullet replies faintly, still standing facing towards the door. _Fuck it,_ Lance decides. _I'm not letting him leave out into an area he doesn't know on his own. Most especially when he's in this state._ He reaches out to Mullet's arm again, Mullet still doesn’t retaliate. "I brought you all the way out here anyway and we bought drinks too. Do you even know what you're going to do when you leave?" Mullet opens his mouth, looking thoughtful, after a brief moment he sighs again.

"Are you sure?" Mullet replies instead, looking apprehensive. Lance smiles, gently tugging on Mullet's wrist, leading him further into the apartment as he also grabs the drinks he had set down.

"I mean, I'm sure we're both gonna need the company, right?'

Mullet's uncertainty seems to fade as he instantly rolls his eyes. "Yeah, the two of us, total loners. Great." Lance laughs, the tension in the air disappearing at that very moment- and to Lance, it makes him feel good, relieved and above all else, happy.

"It ain't lonely if it's the two of us."

\----------------

Lance always loved the feeling he gets when he makes people laugh. People say he's amusing, he's not sure in what way they mean by that, but when he sees the glint in someone's eyes as they smile at him - it makes him feel nice.

So to be able to see Mullet smile because of him, well, ‘good’ may be an understatement.

"Hold up." Mullet says, a grin breaking out in his face, it nearly makes Lance choke on his own spit. "Your roommate tried to eat a baseball glove because he thought it was _bread?"_ Lance nearly gapes, watching the way Mullet' eyes crease when he smiles.

"Yeah," Lance replies, quickly turning away to control his emotions. "Hunk gets a little antsy when he's starving, so whenever he sees something that vaguely looks like food, he'll get at it." He states. Mullet stares at him..

"It was a glove."

"I know."

"But- what glove would _'vaguely'_ look like bread?"

Lance shrugged from his slumped back position on the couch, Mullet sitting beside him with his legs crossed.

"I don't know, a baseball glove?"

Mullet throws his arms up in frustration as Lance lets out a laugh. Keith then leans back on his arms. "Honestly though, your roommate does seem like a nice guy."

The taller male hums. "Not so nice when he leaves me here to fend for myself." He pouts, looking over at Mullet as if jokingly trying to get his sympathy.

"Jeez, your like a kid. How old even are you?" Mullet huffs, shifting his body on the couch to face Lance more.

"I'm twenty-one, thank you very much." Lance raises his chin and says indignantly. At this, Mullet seems surprised.

'Oh, I guess I'm older than you then." This time, it's the other male's turn to look surprised, staring in shock straight at Mullet's amused face.

"What."

Mullet laughs again, the sight of it softening Lance's gaze. He really likes this look on him, he looks so much more like himself, whatever himself may be. Lance doesn't know, he always feels like people look more like themselves when they're smiling. It feels nice to know that it can be brought out from people, that it's still just _there_ even if it may be hard to show. That certain thought has always been hard for him to explain honestly, but it's something he just always feels like he understands, something he just _knows._.

It’s probably not even that much, but Lance has never felt so proud himself to make Mullet almost begin feel like himself again.

"Well I'm only older by a year anyway, I'm twenty-two." Mullet replies, Lance hums again, eyeing Mullet closely. This doesn't go unnoticed by Mullet.

"What?" Mullet asks, looking at him confusedly. Without saying a word, Lance turns his body and brings a hand up to Mullet's covered nape and gently pulls him closer until their lips meet. Mullet's lips are warmer than before and something about this makes something in Lance's chest jump. He angles his face and parts his lips slightly so that their lips are perfectly slotted together. Mullet stills for a moment, probably slightly caught off guard from the sudden action, but he recovers quickly, sighing softy as he leans in a bit closer and deepens the kiss. 

It's different to the way they kissed the first time. First off, they aren't out in the cold anymore, that's one. Secondly and more noticeably, it feels less desperate, less of there being a drive from being in a haze of lust. There’s more of a soft, gentle almost comforting sense to the feeling that comes with all of it now. Lance admits, he only just realises how he definitely likes this _so,_ so much better.

Suddenly, Mullet pulls away, looking at Lance with dilated pupils as he shrugs off his jacket and moves to swing his leg over to sit snugly on Lance's lap, Lance startles, instinctively placing his hands firmly on the other man's slim waist to hold him close and steady. He inhales deeply, sweeping his eyes over the man in front of him until he meets eyes with Mullet, who's smirking down at him, something, yet again, in Lance's heart leaps.

Mullet leans forwards, his bangs ticking Lance’s forehead. "I thought you said we don't have to do anything." He whispers, the corner of his lips turned up slightly. Lance feels a smile spread on his face and sits upwards, still holding on to Mullet's hips as he kisses him again.

"This still doesn't count as anything, does it?" He mutters back. Mullet hums, slowly wrapping his arms around Lance's shoulders.

"Mmm, it kinda does." He says vaguely before he promptly pulls away and moves to sit down next to Lance again. Lance stares at Mullet, mouth gaping open in offence. The other man smirks teasingly.

"What?" He asks, feigning innocence. Lance scoffs and crosses his arms which were left dejectedly at his sides.

"You're rude, Mullet." Mullet, at the sound of his nickname, immediately changes his expression to show distaste.

"Mullet." He deadpans, clearly unimpressed. Lance smirks, crossing his legs.

"Well, you won’t tell me your name, _Mullet."_ He smiles as he repeats the same words from before.

Mullet frowns, narrowing his eyes at Lance. "I'm not telling you until you tell me yours first.”

Lance shifts in his seat again, resting his elbow on the back pillows to rest his face on his hand. "The name's Lance." He states, then stares expectantly at the other male. Mullet sighs, turning away from Lance to look off to the side.

"Keith."

Lance instantly beams. "Well then _Keith,_ it's a pleasure to meet you buddy." He says sincerely. Mullet visibly grimaces.

"Please don't call me 'buddy', I was literally straddling you not even five minutes ago."

"Would you rather I still call you 'Mullet' then?"

_"No."_

Lance laughs loudly, leaning over the armchair at his side to hastily bring out the drinks they bought earlier.

"C'mon Lance,” Lance hears a whine next to hum, “I just gave you my name and this is how you treat me?” Mulle- _Keith_ complains. Lance pauses, the sound of his name coming out of Keith's mouth making him feel a slight heat build up in his neck. He places the drinks on the coffee table in front of them, the loud clink of the bottles sounding out loudly in the dim living room.

“OK then _Keith,"_ Lance pipes up, rubbing his warming neck, "what do you suggest we do?" Keith eyes the drinks, then looks back at Lance. He hums to himself in pretend thought as Lance watches, the smile on his face impossible to control at this point.

Lance honestly didn't expect his evening to turn out like this, and to be honest, he isn't going to complain, not in the slightest. Sure things were a little off at first, but somehow it worked out, and Lance is glad that it did. He just needed company, that was it. He wasn’t even sure how he could get any with all of his friends being so busy. It _sucked._

Lance had only acted in a way to desperately solve the biting loneliness by finding anyone in any way he could think of - and going to a distant club was apparently his only solution. But then again, if he didn't spare an hour to get all the way to some club he finds on a random street, he wouldn't have met Keith, which wouldn't have lead up to this. It all seems odd to Lance, how an action can lead up to a series of events. Lance vaguely wonders if that was what Pidge meant by 'causality'.

"How about drinks..." Keith speaks up. Lance snaps out of his thoughts and looks at Keith curiously, "...and Finding Nemo?" he finishes with a grin. Lance's smile widens, a fuzzy warmth washing over him in a way he hasn't felt in ages. He welcomes the feeling back, just like how he welcomes Keith, his mullet, his finger-less gloves, his cropped leather jacket, his lips, his feelings, his body and just him, into his evening, his home- _hopefully_ even his life. Hey, a guy can only hope.

Lance, grinning widely, quickly pulls Keith in for another kiss against the other's protest before reaching for the remote.

"Your wish is my command, Mullet."

**Author's Note:**

> ‘Mullet’ word count : probably 748564785648956490


End file.
